


i’ve got a hunger you will never taste

by cyanciela



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Aint much going on here, Alternate Universe, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, they love eachother and i’m embarrassed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28525812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanciela/pseuds/cyanciela
Summary: “It’s the way she wraps his heart in paper and string and pulls it out of his chest and brings him to his knees. He’d like to pray to her, right here on the hallway floor.”
Relationships: Son Hak/Yona
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81





	i’ve got a hunger you will never taste

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: if you know me, are friends with me, are a twitter mutual or have ever had more than one conversation with me please don’t read this i’ll die of embarrassment. i’m serious.
> 
> the au here is a famous singer/actress au for something i might make a series out of
> 
> hakyona ate my brain and burned my crops so i wrote smut

**Yona**

_ I miss you. _ (6:34)

**Yona** _ Missed call  _ (9:42)

Hak stares down at his screen until it turns dark. That had been hours ago now, and because he’d left a day earlier than expected, took two cars and a plane, he hadn’t taken much time to check his phone. He pushes call and listens to the dial ring.

“Hello?” Yona answers, voice hoarse from what Hak assumes is sleep.

“Princess,” he responds, looking out the window to the darkened and empty streets. He should be there in a few minutes, not that she knows that.

“Hak.” Her voice is quiet, and he pictures her in their bed, tiny body buried by pillows. The sight usually makes him feel claustrophobic, but after a month away the thought leaves him so intensely fond it almost annoys him.

“Sorry I missed your call earlier. Busy.” The speaker fills with the low thrum of static on the other side. “Yona?”

“Yeah, I guessed.” Hak realizes with a start that she’s probably more upset than she wants him to realize. Days filled with shows and meetings and basic human needs and too much distance made it easy to ignore the longing, up until he couldn’t. He’d managed to change his return flight to a day sooner, and by the sounds of Yona’s voice, he wishes he’d made it a week sooner.

“I was asleep,” Yona adds redundantly, and then jumps into catching him up with the past few days. Equally as busy. He missed her voice.

“I’ll see you soon,” Hak says as the car pulls up to their street. That he will.

It’s another few minutes of paying and grabbing his things, only a carrying on, the rest arriving by mail in a day or two, before he’s putting in the code to the door and stepping through.

The house looks the same as he’d left it. The shoes and coats exactly as they were, only Yona’s things having shifted or been switched out.

He has his shoes off and has barely managed his coat when he hears Yona running down the hall towards him. She can—and has—snuck up on him countless times before, which leads him to believe she can’t be bothered with it tonight. He turns around in the same second she flings herself at him, eyes wide and hair flying in every direction behind her ponytail.

Hak doesn’t even realize she’s climbed him and has her legs locked around his middle until she’s done it. He simply holds her up, not that she appears to need it, and tries to kiss her hello.

The tone of their reunion goes from sweet to something more purposeful when Yona’s hello pecks turn into much longer, more languid kisses. Hak’s heart is kicking up a storm, and he’s not sure how long, if ever it will take to have a different reaction to seeing her.

“Mm, Princess, Yona—slow down,  _ slowdown _ .” There are small hands buried in his hair. His favorite pair on the surface of the earth, he thinks, belonging to a girl he’s missed dearly. Oh, he misses her right now. “We have time,” he says, but his own hands are telling a different story, gripping under her legs like they’ve already run out.

Hak wastes no time in crowding her against the wall. The mere presence of her body, the heat of having her near, seems enough to drive him frantic with want. It’s only as he’s removing his mouth from the skin of her neck that he notices he hadn’t even had a chance to turn the light on.

Taking a moment, Hak loosens his grip on Yona, who immediately starts squirming in his arms. “Hak,” she says.  _ How dare you take your focus off me for even a minute. _ If she felt up to speaking, he’s certain that’s what she’d say.

“We haven’t seen eachother in a month, don’t stop.” The end of her demand rings high with something desperate and stringent, clearly without room for argument or suggestion and Hak knows she’s missed him as much as he has her.

Yes, because an hour apart was irritating, a day away was difficult, and  _ weeks _ without his princess was cruel and unusual punishment. Hak acknowledges this, agrees with it wholeheartedly, but that doesn’t stop him from craving something slower. It doesn’t stop him from nosing along her collar bone, or rubbing his hands along the skin under her night-shirt. It cannot efface the worshipful way he takes her skin between his teeth and  _ pulls _ just shy of hard-enough, because it drives her to the point of hysterical and just a little more compliant. 

So Hak does, and as he’s pulling them back from the wall and Yona opens her mouth to complain again, he grabs her hair by the roots and yanks her back, neck exposed. He takes pleasure in this too. Yona fights against the grip but doesn’t say anything more, still squirming and wanting for more.

Hak gives in, only slightly (because he’s no monster), and he has his own need to satisfy, to give and give exactly as Yona wishes until there’s nothing left of him at all. He loosens the grip on her hair enough so that she can lean forward once more and moves in to kiss her. Her mouth is sweet, and it’s ridiculous to say but it’s true. She tastes the way she always has and he loves her more in that moment for it. The way she is always herself, and the way he gets to have her.

“You couldn’t even let me turn the light on?” Hak asks, not because he thinks he’ll get a good answer, but because he knows it will irritate her. Less talking, she says with the way she breathes a kiss against his open mouth.

She gets irritated when she can’t touch him the way he’s touching her, once-cold skin against flushed skin, gone warm with want. She yanks at his tie in complete impatience. Hak struggles not to laugh—not at her but at the way it makes his chest lighter, and maybe even tight. It’s the way she wraps his heart in paper and string and pulls it out of his chest and brings him to his knees. He’d like to pray to her, right here on the hallway floor.

She’s still diligently unbuttoning his shirt, tie forgotten somewhere unimportant as he carries her to the bedroom. The only light in here comes from the lamp glowing on his side of the bed, sheets disturbed where she had obviously been sleeping. One of his t-shirts lies on the pillow. He feels his heart beat in the palm of her hand, still wrapped up under her ministrations, bound so tightly it’s shrunk under the force.

He places her down, and the distance almost immediately becomes too much. She’s lying against the bed in a t-shirt and underwear and he loves her more than anyone. He doesn’t have the mental capacity to ask her to take her clothes off, even though his own pants remain entirely secured and his button down is untucked but still hanging off his shoulders. Perhaps it’s the way he looks at her that gets the message across, maybe it’s the praying he’s doing in his head, but she grabs her shirt by the hem and yanks it over her head.

He falls to his knees there. Between her legs with his hands around her waist.

“Lie down,” he says, and as he says the words he’s making up his mind on what he’d like to be doing.

It’s as if he’s on autopilot, more instinctual need to have her than actual thought occurring. He grabs her thighs and places one of them over his shoulder, leaning up to kiss her again. It stretches her body in a way that might be uncomfortable for some, but she seems happy to have him pour over her. He trails his mouth down over her breasts and takes one of her nipples into his mouth, and this time he bites with less reservation. She arches off the bed and whines,  _ ahh _ ,  _ ahh _ , and it’s a melody he loves to carve into song. He moves over to her other nipple and does the same, and when she sings for him a second time he makes sure to hold her down. Mine, he thinks.  _ My love, my princess, here with me _ .

He cups between her legs, where she’s wet through her panties and rubs, maybe a bit ruthlessly.  _ Ah _ ,  _ ngh _ , she reaches chorus, and he repeats the sweet torture. He wants to eat her alive, unspool her lazily and deliberately and then all at once, to cut the string at the end with a single decisive snip. He slows down, and Yona moans, upset upon upset over this development.

Yona lifts her hips and stares down at him very pointedly, eyes purposeful but glossy with want and suddenly Hak is the one struggling not to unravel.

Okay, okay. He thinks. I’m here to serve.

He uses her gracious position of lifted hips to his advantage and drags the last of her clothes off, tossing them over his shoulder. Yona lifts herself up on her elbows to yank his shirt off his shoulders as well, and he helps her with it happily. Gripping the leg still over his shoulder with both hands he kisses her there, and then bites over that.

He leans into her, heady with her smell and her taste and puts his mouth over her clit. He starts as he starts all things, soft but deliberate and savors her the way he last dreamed of a week ago. He presses in again, and again, each time harder than the last until she has both hands in his hair and is half-riding into his face.

Hak smiles into his last, languid lick over her clit and waits for her to still before pushing her up their bed. She gasps at the manhandling and he leans over her fully, kissing her with a hand around her throat. Yona brings her hands up to the one on her neck, and Hak can’t stop himself from kissing the skin of her knuckles.

“Looks like you can be sweet.”

Yona appears to be lost to words, and Hak prides himself deeply with such an accomplishment. He kisses her again, and then one more time.

Yona has her hands undoing his belt soon thereafter, and he makes quick work of shedding his clothes. Now above him, Yona sits on his hips, height difference clear when in such a position.

“I missed you.” It’s the only warning he gets before Yona lifts herself up on her knees and positions him at her entrance. It’s hot already, and Hak swallows his tongue trying to stay still.

“You miss me?” Yona asks, still hovering. Hak grips the sheets for purchase and nods, gasping. Distantly, he feels the way she shakes above him, suddenly the patient one. She drags one of her hands from her stomach and up, putting on a show. It’s all Hak can do not to entertain his princess.

He reaches up to grab her by the hips, and Yona smiles at him almost cruelly. “I thought you said we had time. You want me—“

“Please,” Hak sighs, lifts his head up and then drops it, unsure of what to do. “Please, princess, please  _ please _ .”

With a single fluid movement, Yona pushes down, and Hak bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Fuck.” He hears, only to realize it’s a string of expletives, all from his own mouth.

Hak lifts himself up, taking her with him. Now sitting, she sits on him, eyes sliding shut and open with the feeling.

“Stop leaving for so long,” Yona says. Hak has no control over how long he’s gone, most of the time, but she could get him to promise her anything right now.

They move in tangent, and together they reach the edge. It doesn’t take long before they’re consumed with that singleness, until the nails raking down his back feel like kisses.

Yona makes a particularly sweet sound, full of promise, and Hak swallows it down as fast as he can reach her mouth. “I’ll never—“ Yona bites down on his shoulder, and he takes a moment to remember language, “I’ll never leave again if it’s what you want.”

They fall through together, perception filed down to the single point between them.

—

“Why’d you come home a day early?” Yona asks from the kitchen counter. Hak stares with blatant appreciation at her with his mug in hand.

He brings it up to sip. “Take a guess.”

Yona tries and fails not to look immensely pleased by this. “You like me or something?”

Hak places his mug down and steps up between her legs, barking a disbelieving laugh when she seems incited by this. “Seriously?” He asks, bringing his hands up to cup her cheeks. “It’s been like fifteen minutes.”

Yona rolls her eyes, sighing with obviously exaggerated annoyance. “No. It’s been a month. I thought you missed me.”

“I more than like you, your spoiled highness.” Hak kisses her quiet. “It’s the middle of the night. You have to be tired.” To Hak’s surprise she seems to agree, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. “I don’t sleep as well without you.”

“I’m definitely taking you with me next time. You could fit in a suitcase.”

Yona only snuggles against him more, not even outraged. Unsurprisingly, after Hak carries her back to bed, they both sleep incredibly well.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for any errors i missed and maybe even general quality i’ve never written smut.. ever before. idk what i’m doing.
> 
> u can catch me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/mochilzuku) for assorted unhinged happenings


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